


o death, where is your victory (o death, where is your sting)

by jcp_sob_rjl_lmep



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Jason Came Back Right, There is No Robin, with a side of Tim is Adopted Early
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27360835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jcp_sob_rjl_lmep/pseuds/jcp_sob_rjl_lmep
Summary: On a stormy Gotham night in April, Jason Todd drags himself out of his own grave. He's only got one thought to follow-he has to get to his dad. Bruce will make everything better.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907791
Comments: 22
Kudos: 388





	o death, where is your victory (o death, where is your sting)

Jason let out a heaving sob as his upper body finally came to rest on the muddied grass, closing his eyes under the onslaught of rain that plastered his curls to his head. Shredded wood covered him, and pieces dug into his legs as he struggled to pull them out, kicking his way out of the grave. Confusion and fear bubbled in equal measure in his head-what was going on? The wood that covered him, pinching and digging into him, made it all too real. It felt almost dreamlike, but Jason knew he wasn’t dreaming.

Clothes and skin tore alike, but finally, he was able to roll away from the wreckage, stopping to rest a few feet away. Thunder cracked, and lightning flashed, and Jason opened his eyes just in time to see his own gravestone illuminated in an almost unholy light. _Here lies Jason Todd, Beloved Son_.

* * *

He didn’t stay there long. After catching his breath, Jason stumbled to his feet, fighting against his injuries until he couldn’t tell if the water running down his cheeks was rain or tears. He made it to the edge of the graveyard, then paused to catch his breath, shuddering, and took inventory of his body.

Jason’s head was killing him (heh); his fingernails had either been torn away or were ripped past his nail beds; he had scrapes all over his body from the wood of the coffin, but especially on his legs, where the pants hadn’t held up long. His arms ached so much he wasn’t sure if anything had been sprained or if it was simply the exertion of digging himself out of the ground. The worst of it was in his right thigh, where a spike of wood was embedded deep. Jason took a deep breath, then reached down to touch it; his vision went white with pain and he screamed, unable to stop it. Only the fact that his grip had clenched on the wall of the graveyard kept him from falling, which was good, because he did _not_ want to jostle his leg.

Something was wrong. The last thing he remembered was that damned warehouse; cigarette smoke and deadly laughter, the light shining off of a crowbar as it swung down, down, down. He was wearing a suit, he had been buried in the ground, he’d had a fucking _gravestone_. There wasn’t even a spare comm to call Batman.

Jason just wanted his dad.

His breath rattled in his lungs as he turned to look out at Gotham, wiping the water from his face only for it to be immediately replaced by the rain.

Wayne Tower towered over the buildings around it.

Jason gritted his teeth and started walking.

* * *

By the time Jason had dragged himself to downtown Gotham, he was half-blind both from the pain and from the rain. You’d think that more people would have been suspicious of him stumbling along, but this was Gotham. People had seen weirder just this week alone, he was sure. Besides, the water had sloughed away quite a bit of the dirt and mud that had caked his skin, if not all of it.

Through the sheets pouring down, Wayne Tower stood proudly across the street, many of its lights out as the workers left for the night. Jason could only hope that the doors hadn’t been locked for the night - he knew that he probably looked awful, and there’s no way a security guard would just let him in, even and especially if he gave his name as the son of the owner.

But if he could make it through the doors, he could get to the private elevator that Bruce used and that Dick and Jason had their own codes for, allowing him to get up to his dad’s office. He couldn’t make it to the Manor, not all the way in Bristol. This was his only chance.

That is, of course, if the running didn’t take him down before he could get there.

But fuck that. He was Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, he’d been through worse than this. If he had to force himself to run on a wounded leg, he would. And Alfred and Bruce might scold him for it, but at least they would _be there_ to scold him.

The rain was coming down so heavily that the guard didn’t notice him until he was actually inside the lobby, heading for the elevator.

“Hey, kid!” He called, starting to make his way towards Jason. Jason gritted his teeth and forced himself to limp faster. “Kid, you can’t be in here-”

Jason’s fingers smeared blood on the number pad as he pressed in his code. The guard was talking to someone over his walkie talkie. The door hissed open. Jason dove inside, feeling the guard’s fingers brush his back, and he looked over his shoulder as the elevator closed on the now pissed guard.

He rolled over with a groan, laying on his back and dropping his head to the floor as he breathed. The pain in his thigh had lessened to a dull roar now that his weight was no longer on it, but to make it all worse, the ankle below it was now throbbing-he’d probably sprained or torn something as he got into the elevator.

Jason was already dreading his recovery time.

Luckily, he was able to lever himself to his feet by the time the door hissed back open on Bruce’s office floor-he left quite a bit of blood behind in the elevator, but you had to pick your battles, and that wasn’t one that Jason was really equipped to deal with at the moment.

The lights were off, and the desk outside Bruce’s office was deserted. Jason’s heart sank. He gripped the edge of that desk, attempting to take the weight off of his leg. His breath left his lungs in a sobbing whine, the pain soaring until he couldn’t even breathe through it. He’d done his best-he couldn’t make it any further, and the guards would be coming soon.

“Bruce,” Jason sobbed, sinking to the ground. “Dad, please.”

The pain ebbed, then spiked. Jason shrieked with it. “DAD!”

And then-quite possibly the best sight he’d ever seen. Bruce’s door opened, and he was there. Jason’s dad was standing right in front of him, larger than life as always, blue eyes wide and hands shaking.

 _Something was wrong_ , Jason thought, muddled. His dad’s hands never shook.

But then he was there, holding him, and _that_ was familiar, that was his dad, surrounding him, keeping him safe.

“Dad,” Jason rasped, the tears falling from his eyes blurring his vision.

“Shh, Jaylad,” That deep voice rumbled, soothing him as his leg screamed in protest. “Dad’s here.”

With his driving mission complete, Jason reached up to touch his dad’s cheek, leaving behind a smear of blood as he finally fell unconscious.

* * *

Dick’s heart was pounding, and the kid wasn’t _running fast enough_. With a muttered curse, he turned and reached out, scooping up the kid, who squeaked as Dick lifted him. With him secure in Dick’s arms, Dick continued racing down the halls, glancing at the room numbers as he passed them.

“There!” The kid called, pointing at a room as Dick skidded past it. He was alarmingly light, Dick thought. Something to bring up with Bruce when they had a moment alone. “That’s his room, there.”

Dick didn’t allow himself a moment of hesitation-he pushed open the door and stepped right in, eyes only on the boy in the hospital bed.

“Jason?” His mouth was dry. He couldn’t get his arms to release the kid, but he had become uncharacteristically shy (as well as Dick knew him in the hours since he had shown up at Dick’s door), sinking into Dick and hiding his face.

“Dickie,” His little brother croaked, a hesitant smile appearing.

“Oh my God. Oh, fuck-” Dick choked as the reality of it hit him in the chest. His knees felt weak.

“Master Dick, language,” Alfred held the line, as always, approaching Dick and loosening his grip to free the kid from his perch, while Bruce came from the other side, gripping Dick’s elbow like he thought Dick was going to pass out.

“‘lo, Mr. Pennyworth,” The kid mumbled, looking down at his toes. Alfred raised an eyebrow at Dick.

“His name’s Tim,” Dick offered, attention still occupied by Jason, who had begun squirming under his gaze.

“Timothy Drake,” The kid continued, but Dick tuned his conversation with Alfred out, focused only on his dad and his brother.

“What, Dickhead-” Jason finally snapped.

“You’re alive,” Dick sighed, stumbling over to sit on the edge of Jason’s bed and hug his kid brother. “You’re really alive.”

Jason hesitantly settled in his embrace; after a moment, Bruce’s hand was warm on Dick’s back, rubbing soft circles between his shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry,” Dick mumbled. He could feel the tears sliding down his face into Jason’s hair. “I’ve been an awful brother, I’m so sorry, Jace.”

“I haven’t exactly been the model brother either,” Jason said roughly.

“You’re the little brother. You’re supposed to be annoying,” Dick rebutted.

“Fine, I accept your apology. Stop snotting on me,” Jason snarked. Dick let out a choked laugh, sitting back and letting Jason go.

They talked some more, Dick properly introducing Tim to his family, until Alfred drew both younger boys into a conversation, allowing Dick and Bruce to slip into the hallway unnoticed. Still, they positioned themselves at the window, where they could both see inside.

“So,” Dick started. “Jason.”

“Jason,” Bruce confirmed, his voice rough. He looked back through the window. Wonder looked good on his face, Dick thought.

“And he’s totally okay?” Dick checked.

“The only injuries he has are from,” Bruce cleared his throat, obviously struggling to continue his sentence. “From crawling out.”

“From crawling-” All of a sudden, Dick felt sick. He stepped closer to Bruce, lowering his voice. Quietly, he hissed, “From crawling out of his _grave_?”

Bruce nodded, pale. A shudder ran down Dick’s spine. He didn’t want to imagine his little brother going through that.

When they glanced back through the window, their miracle was holding onto Tim, both of them squished into the hospital bed-both of them small for their age. Again, Dick thought to himself, Tim was too small.

“So,” Bruce changed the subject. Dick couldn’t blame him. “Tim.”

“Tim,” Dick repeated. “He’s the Drakes’ kid-next door neighbors the entire time I lived with you, and we never even met him. He showed up at my apartment this afternoon, he said he was worried about you and that I needed to come back to, uh, reprise my old role, shall we say.”

Bruce’s eyebrows rose. “You mean as a bird?”

“Under your cape,” Dick nodded. “Get this-he said he figured it out when he was _nine years old_. Bruce, he’s _twelve_.”

“Smart kid,” Bruce grumbled, impressed.

“Yea, but there’re some weird things I’ve noticed since he’s been around,” Dick frowned. “Like, I picked him up earlier? I swear to you, there’s no way he’s over 75 pounds. I’d be surprised if you even told me he was 70.”

“Twelve?” Bruce said. “He should be nearing 90 at this point.”

“Look at him, B. If you saw him on the street, you’d think he was nine. Maybe ten, at a stretch. Twelve?” Dick hissed. Bruce looked Tim over, closer than he had before. He nodded in that way that told Dick he was building the case in his head already. “Plus, think about this. Tim said he’s always lived there-he goes to school in Gotham, he barely ever leaves the city, if he does at all. But Bruce-when’s the last time you saw the Drakes?”

Bruce’s brow furrowed. Dick continued, “When’s the last time you saw _anybody_ in that house? When we drive by, it’s dark and quiet, there are no cars, no signs of life. Now Tim says he’s been _living_ there this whole time?”

“The Drakes aren’t currently in Gotham.” Bruce finally said, his voice rumbling lower in his chest as he began to get angry. “They flew out in February, it was in the paper. I have no clue when they’re coming back, but I can’t imagine it’s anytime soon.”

“Can he stay with you?” Dick asked.

“We have the room, so long as Jason agrees.” Bruce lifted one shoulder slightly in his version of a shrug. “If it’s true, I don’t want him to stay in that house even through tonight.”

“Right next door, Bruce.” Dick shook his head, his hands curling into fists.

“We know now, Dick. We’re going to do something about it now.” Bruce reassured, reaching out to clap Dick on the shoulder. The hand pulled him in until their foreheads pressed together, just for a moment, offering Dick some of the comfort and strength Bruce had always given him. “Let’s get back into the room before the boys notice we’ve gone.”

* * *

When Jason came home a week later, he settled onto the couch in the family room to watch TV with Tim curled into his side, a position that was rapidly becoming familiar to all of them. Dick was driving in from Blüdhaven that night, taking some time off work. Alfred was in the kitchen, preparing what he promised was a “proper homecoming dinner, Master Jason, so long as you go sit down and stop putting weight on that leg,”; Bruce, meanwhile, could actually be heard by the two boys, as he stood in his office across the hall, detailing to the Drakes’ lawyers exactly the way this was going to go.

Jason wasn’t ever going to be grateful for the fact that he died. But this? For this, he was unspeakably happy that he had come back right.

**Author's Note:**

> The title tonight is from the Bible-specifically 1 Corinthians 15:55. This fills the "Jason Comes Back Right" square on my Batfam Bingo card. I was really excited about this one, and I think it came out great! To see the full card, go to the series page and click on the link.  
> Downloads are fine but please don't post this anywhere else without my permission.  
> Feel free to come catch me on [tumblr](https://iwillstaywiththemforever.tumblr.com).  
> This was beta-d by the great [Haz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/necrosweater/pseuds/necrosweater).  
> Love you all and I will hopefully see you tomorrow!


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